"Not the least, if you'd kindly hold your fire till I can get behind
a rock or a thick tree."
"Yes, that's the place for you, I reckon. All ready, Mr. McKay?"
"It's up to you," smiled the Ranger. "Does it make any particular
difference to you which way I whirl?" asked the fat boy.
"Not in the least. You may stand on your head and whirl if it will
suit you better."
"For goodness' sake, do something," begged Tad. "You've taken enough
time already to shoot the tree clean off the map."
"Who's doing this shooting, you or I?" asked Chunky.
Tad sat down helplessly. Stacy was not to be hurried. The more one
urged him, the slower did he become.
"Look out, I'm going to shoot now. Everybody lie low!"
Stacy spun himself around like a top. He had whirled three times
when the Ranger shouted to him.
"Shoot before you get so dizzy you can't see!"
Bang!
"Stop it---"
Bang!
"Stop it, you idiot!"
McKay struck the fat boy's revolver just in time to prevent getting a
bullet through his own body. Over yonder the professor lay flat on
the ground with a frightened look on his face, shouting at the top of
his voice.
"Hold him! Hold him! He'll have us all riddled!"
"Wha---what's the matter?" demanded Stacy looking around innocently.
"Matter? See what you have done."
"Di---did I wing the professor?" questioned the fat boy innocently.
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